by Lily Bishop
At Ric’s questioning glance, Lindsey shrugged. “Can’t it wait?”
“No. It will just take a minute.”
She pushed out the breath she had been holding in a huff. “I don’t know what he wants. I won’t be but a minute.”
She got up, turned the lights back on, and slipped into her robe. Ric’s lips tightened, but he didn’t offer an opinion.
She walked into the kitchen to see Ben making a sandwich. He put the food up and turned to talk to her.
“What do you want that couldn’t wait?” She eyed Ben critically. He looked rough. His shirt with the bar’s logo smelled like beer and his hair wouldn’t stay out of his eyes.
“When we were closing tonight, Scott said some interesting things about your friend.”
“What are you talking about?” Why would Scott know anything about Ric?
“I’m talking about your friend, Ric. According to Scott, Ric is part of a pretty scary crime family. You do not want to be involved with him.”
“That’s ridiculous. Ric is one of the kindest, gentlest people I know.”
“Well, he’s not who he says he is, so I would be careful.”
“Don’t you worry about it,” Lindsey said. “I know what I am doing.” She turned to go back to Ric.
“Apparently not,” he muttered under his breath. Lindsey ignored him and kept walking.
Back in her room, the door was open, but it might have done that on its own. Ric sat up in bed messing with his phone.
“What was that all about?”
“A whole lot of nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
He grunted and looked up from his phone with a scowl. “Why did they close so early anyway? It’s not even two in the morning yet.”
“Blue laws. Bars have to close at midnight on Saturday night. Can’t be open on Sunday.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Lindsey shrugged. “That’s the default in South Carolina. Some touristy areas have different laws that allow it, but most don’t. I thought it was odd when I first got here, but since I’m not a big drinker, it didn’t matter that much to me.”
He stood up, throwing the covers off his legs. "I'll be right back."
“Where are you going?”
“I left my charger in my car.” He grabbed his keys and went out. Lindsey suppressed the completely irrational fear that he would drive off and leave her. She had no reason to think that, since his things were still in the house. From the set of his shoulders, he looked like he would just as soon get in his car, drive away, and never come back.
He was gone at least ten minutes. While she waited, she heard voices on the porch. Great. He and Ben were going back and forth. She heard something slam against wood. She thought she would have to intervene, but he came back. She watched while he closed and locked her door.
“Got your charger?”
“Sure do.” He plugged in his phone and laid his keys on the nightstand. “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat. You want me to turn off the light?”
“That’s fine.”
“What was that sound on the porch?” she asked.
“Chair fell over.”
“Oh.” Lindsey didn’t believe for a minute that a chair fell over outside. She looked for an opening, but from his tone guessed he didn’t want to talk about it
With the light off, she felt rather than saw him get back into bed. Lindsey had already stretched out, and now she lay beside him, having no idea what she should do. He pulled the cover up and turned over on his stomach, facing away from her.
“Good night, Lindsey.”
“Night, Ric.”
She had her answer. She wasn’t supposed to do anything.
Overtired and frustrated, Lindsey lay beside Ric, listening to his deep, even, breathing. Her mind wouldn’t stop racing, challenging her to figure out what she had done wrong. He had wanted her—she knew enough about the male form to know that—but he hadn’t acted.
What on earth had gotten into Ben? She knew stories from dorm life, girls who would hang a scarf on the door. In her own bedroom, in her own house, a scarf shouldn't be necessary. Why had Ben bothered them?
Lindsey thought back to things that Ric had told her on the island. He had worried about her and at the time, she thought he was exaggerating. According to him, protecting her from Vaughn Bruce was the main reason he had locked her in the tower suite. But then, she remembered him saying that his cousin had supplied Vaughn with the fake chips.
The more she thought about it, the worse it seemed. She had also seen that man in Miami, but when she mentioned him to Ric, he made her swear not to tell anyone what she had seen. Lindsey had shrugged that off—how could she tell someone that she saw a random man in Miami? That made no sense. But now, thinking about it, the man looked like Ric. Was he part of Ric’s family?
Lindsey rolled over carefully in the bed, not wanting to disturb Ric’s sleep. Even if the man in Miami was Ric’s family, none of that mattered to her. Her heart knew Ric, and she trusted him with her life. He would never let anything happen to her.
#
Ric woke up early with Lindsey half-sprawled all over him. The cover had slipped off in the night, and she must have gotten cold with the ceiling fan running. Her hand rested near his stiff morning erection.
He suppressed a groan and eased her off of him with the care he would use to flip an egg over-easy. She mumbled something and rolled over on her own, winding up on her stomach with her hair across her face. He resisted the urge to rub her back. He wanted them to get up and get moving before her roommate started stirring. Given Lindsey’s friendliness, she would likely want them all to spend the day together.
He pulled on pants and a shirt, grabbed his wallet and phone, and went out. Since Lindsey didn't have an alarm system, he could go buy breakfast without having to wake her up. He remembered seeing a fast food restaurant a few blocks from her house.
At the restaurant, he realized that he had no idea what kind of biscuit she liked, so he bought three types. He would let her pick and then eat the remaining two.
The night before, Ric had made the excuse that he needed his phone charger, and he had gone back out to his car. The truth was, he wanted to talk to Ben himself.
Ben followed him out on the porch and lit a cigarette.
“I know who your family is,” Ben said, skipping any pleasantries.
“And I know that you’re doing more than tending bar. If you draw her into your world, my people will come after you. And you won’t like the result.”
“Your people,” Ben scoffed. “My uncle warned me about you. You’re nothing but a thug.”
“Did he warn you about me? Or about my cousin? Because my cousin makes your uncle look like a choir boy.”
Ben took another draw on the cigarette. “He said stay away from your family.”
Ric stepped towards Ben. He had half a foot and several pounds of muscle on the boy and wasn’t above using a little intimidation in his favor. “I suggest you do that. And so you know, Lindsey is mine. Hurt her, and you’ll regret it.”
“I told her about you,” Ben said, looking satisfied with himself.
At his limit, Ric pushed Ben up against the wall, holding him there with one hand across his throat. The years of being defined by Miguel rushed over him. “What did you say?”
“I told her to stay away from your family.” Ben choked out the words. He pulled on Ric’s arm, trying to break the hold. Ric didn’t let him go, rage pulsing through him. Disgusted, he let go and punched Ben in the stomach. Ben doubled over, wheezing to get his breath.
Ric loomed over him. “I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon. Until I leave, I don’t want to see you. Got it?”
Ben nodded, his face turning red. Finally, he got his breath back and started coughing. Ric felt a pang of sympathy but he pushed it aside. He hadn’t hit him that hard. Besides, the boy needed to know that he meant business.
CHAPTER EIGHT
; Tunnel Vision
Lindsey’s mind drifted in that shadowy place between dreaming and waking. Images flashed through her mind like computer slides in an endless lecture. She and Ric on the beach. Ric in the tower suite. Their kiss at the airport.
At the airport, instead of the kiss, he looked down at her and said, “I’d kill for you.”
“No,” she cried. “Don’t.”
The image changed. Crimson red stained everything in the black and white dream, wet against her hands and face. Ric's face and hands were covered in blood.
“What did you do?” he asked. She looked down and her hands held a knife covered in blood. The realization that she had stabbed him woke her screaming.
The door slapped open and Ric burst through. “I heard you cry out. Are you okay?”
She sat up, disoriented. “Yes.” She ran a shaky hand through her hair. “Bad dream.”
The sheets had tangled around her legs and her face felt wet with tears. A dream. Relief swept through her, but the horror lingered.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. I went and got breakfast. You’ll feel better if you eat.”
“Okay. I’ll be right out.”
Still shaky, Lindsey splashed cold water on her face, trying to calm her racing heart. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that the dream wasn’t real.
She found Ric serving breakfast in the dining room. She found everything she loved—biscuits, hash-brown potatoes and coffee.
“You make me happy,” she said with a big grin, loading her coffee with cream and sweetener. “What made you decide to fetch food?”
He shrugged. “I woke up hungry and I didn’t know what you had here. I remembered passing this restaurant on the way in, so I thought I would surprise you."
She took a big bite of her biscuit. “This is delicious.”
“It hits the spot after being up late. I hate to tell you this, but my management staff at the resort called. There’s a dignitary coming in tomorrow morning, so I have to go back tonight. So we just have today, and then I need to drive back to Atlanta so I can fly home."
“Are you sure you have to go back so soon? I was getting used to having you around.” His drop-in visit had surprised her, but now it felt right to have him hanging around.
Ric smiled. “I’m afraid so. So what do you want to do? Want to go up to that tunnel that your friend Whit talked about? We could take a picnic.”
“I don’t know. I’m barely awake.” Lindsey sipped on the coffee, thankful that horrid dream was receding. “I guess that’s fine. We’ll have to go by a grocery store if you want to take a picnic. I wonder where Ben is? It’s not like him to not leave a note.”
“I didn’t see him when I went out for breakfast.”
Lindsey heard something odd in Ric’s voice, but she didn’t pursue it. She had a feeling that Ric and Ben would never be friends. She just had to keep them from killing each other.
#
After breakfast, they stopped by the grocery store for picnic items, including a flashlight. They purchased chicken from the deli, cold salads, chips, and drinks. She pulled up a map on her phone and navigated as Ric drove.
True to Whit’s word, the drive took less than an hour. They were on a major highway for a while, but then wound through some country roads. At times, Lindsey thought they were in the middle of nowhere.
“This is a pretty area. Lots of rolling hills and lakes,” Ric said as he parked.
“It’s definitely a switch from Florida.”
They saw the signs leading to the tunnel and parked in a gravel lot between the tunnel and the waterfall.
“Let’s go see half of a tunnel,” Ric said with a grin.
It was almost lunch and already hot, the kind of heat that took her breath away. When they stepped out of the air-conditioned car, the heat rushed at them as if they had opened an oven. He handed her one of the two bright orange Clemson caps that he had bought at the grocery store. She had read in the on-line article that sometimes water dripped from the ceiling.
By the time they walked the short path up to the tunnel opening, Lindsey could feel her shirt sticking to her.
The tunnel itself appeared to be unassuming. Lindsey looked up at the black hole surrounded by green vines growing on the face of the rock. A few people milled around the area, but most were either coming out of the tunnel or walking in. None of them looked the worse for wear.
A cool breeze wafted out of the tunnel, refreshingly cool in the September heat.
“I guess here goes nothing,” Lindsey said, and they stepped into the damp blackness of the tunnel.
The tunnel’s atmosphere surrounded them immediately, cutting off the outside world. Lindsey edged closer to Ric until he took her hand. He shined the flashlight along the rock floor on small puddles and bits of gray rock scattered in dark mud. The sound of water dripping muffled the footsteps of the visitors farther ahead in the tunnel.
“Reminds me of the dungeon in the castle where I grew up.”
“So not only did you grow up in a castle, your family’s castle had a dungeon?”
“Didn’t everyone?” he said, laughing. “The castle dates back to when the English and Spanish were fighting over the Caribbean. We played escondelero in the dungeon hadn’t." He paused, trying to think of the English version. “Hide and go seek.”
“With rock walls like this?” Lindsey could see the scrapes on the hand-hewn walls of the tunnel.
“Brick, I think, some stone if I’m remembering correctly. A packed dirt floor. Iron bars.”
A drop of water hit Lindsey’s shoulder and she shuddered. “When I finally get to see your castle, I might skip that part of the tour.”
After a short walk they reached the area of the tunnel blocked by a locked iron gate.
“End of the road,” Ric said.
Lindsey looked up. The flashlight pointing at the ground cast Ric’s face in shadow. She glanced behind her, but didn’t see anyone behind them.
“No one has ever kissed me in a tunnel before," she whispered.
“You haven’t?” He slipped his arms around her and pulled her closer. “Well, I can fix that.”
One of his hands moved to her neck, massaging with strong fingers. She shivered at the contact and pressed closer to Ric, needing to feel him around her. On her tiptoes, she could just reach his mouth. When he kissed her, she felt a shock wave from her lips to her toes.
Impatient, Lindsey pulled Ric’s head farther down and took his lips the way she wanted them. She tugged on his lower lip with her teeth, thrilled when he groaned.
He tilted her head back, and took the lead with a deep kiss that stole her breath. The kiss she had wanted. The kiss she had needed.
Time stopped. The cool air in the cave contrasted against the searing heat of his skin. His woodsy scent replaced the dank smell of the tunnel. She held on to his shoulders, trusting him to keep them standing.
He pulled back before she did. “Not here,” he said, pressing his forehead against hers.
Lindsey knew he was right, but still she whimpered.
“Come, let’s go eat,” he said, his voice deep and husky. He took her hand and they turned to leave the tunnel. He was right—other people were close, coming up on them.
Outside, they found a shady picnic table and unloaded the car. When she saw the wooden picnic table, Lindsey wished she had bought a table cloth. They opened all the containers and pulled out the paper plates and drinks.
“Funny, I don’t remember getting so much food. What is this? Two kinds of cookies?”
He looked sheepish. “I thought you might want something sweet after lunch. I couldn’t decide so I bought both.”
Lindsey laughed. “We’ll never eat all this.”
“I know, but you’ll have some left for dinner.” Ric took a bite out of the chicken breast. “This chicken is good, even cold,” he said.
“I like their chicken, although one of these days I’m going to learn how to fry my own. Mama
made the best fried chicken. I still don’t know how she did it. I think she steamed it part of the time. The couple of times I’ve tried it, I couldn’t get the batter right.”
“We didn’t eat a lot of fried chicken in Venezuela.”
“You poor, disadvantaged boy!” she said, teasing. “Are you sure you have to leave? Couldn’t you fly out early tomorrow morning?”
“No, there’s not enough time. I told the pilot I want to fly out at seven, and I need to drop the car by my house and call a taxi. When we get back, it will be time for me to leave.”
“I hate it you have to go.” Lindsey understood, but that didn’t meant that she had to be happy about it.
“I know. But we’ll have more time when you come back to Calliope. Are you still coming the week of fall break?”
“That’s the plan. If you’ll have me.”
He smiled. “I can’t think of anything I would like better.”
For her part, Lindsey didn’t taste a thing. She ate, but everything seemed bland. Had she done something to make Ric want to leave earlier than he had planned? He had said that the resort had called him back, but was that the truth? Or had he decided to cut his losses and leave early?
After they packed away the picnic items, they walked over to Issaqueena Falls. The waterfall rose above the forest and the sound of the rushing water called to them. Lindsey took a few pictures, and they found another park visitor to take a picture of the two of them.
“So the story goes that the Indian maiden hid behind the water?” Lindsey asked.
“That’s what the website said.”
“But why?” Lindsey couldn’t even imagine climbing that waterfall.
“She warned the settlers that the Indian war party was about to attack. Her people were looking for her."
“And then what happened?”
“She returned to live with the settlers. Of course, it’s all legend.”
“You don’t know. It might be a true story,” Lindsey said, playing devil’s advocate.
He squeezed her shoulders. “Could be.”
Once they were in the car, Lindsey’s mind wandered back to the fact that he was leaving.